


No Nets to Catch the Falling

by hiza-chan (callunavulgari)



Category: Legend of Zelda
Genre: Circus, M/M, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 05:56:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/hiza-chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stories of the chosen Hero have been passed down for decades. Generation after generation, until He passes into legend, and eventually into myth. The Hero of Time surpasses the title of Hero and becomes a religious icon as sacred as the fabled Triad. Thousands of years pass, with no emergence of a new Hero, until a young Sheikah stumbles across an orphan in the streets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Nets to Catch the Falling

**Author's Note:**

> I started this in... 2007? Basically a really long time ago. It has been tentatively titled "Acrobat Sheik epic" in my LoZ wip folder and I believe most of the notes for it are in one of my notebooks upstairs. However, since it's been six years, I'm pretty sure if I don't post what I have, I'll never get around to doing anything since I rarely touch my word docs nowadays. Can be read as standalone, but it's probably going to be expanded on once I find my notes.

Sheik knows of the Chosen Hero. He knows of him the way any other young Sheikah does. He remembers reading the scriptures, and how his young mind had boggled at the notion of facing the King of Evil, how the thought of wading through the twilight in the form of some Holy Beast had made him physically ill. However, he also remembers looking at the paintings of that Holy Being in the Great Cathedrals, how the Hero's blue eyes had smiled down at him. Sheik had looked upon the Hero of Time, this new God of Hyrule, and he'd loved him.  
  
The stories had been passed down through time, person to person, tribe to tribe until the stories were finally compiled into one great book and formed into The Scriptures. Sheik knows all the stories, remembers lying awake at night with his copy of the Scrolls long after the other children had succumbed to slumber.  
  
The stories told of a brave young warrior who traversed through time. This warrior saved Hyrule, over and over again, and when his body finally gave in, he would be reborn, to come to the peoples aid once more.  
  
He is well versed on the ways of the Hero, and how the same incarnation that had destroyed Ganon had also saved a foreign land from some dire threat. For some time, Sheik wonders if the translation had been misinterpreted, for this Hero had been said to have saved the people of this foreign land from the sky itself.  
  
He can recite word for word the Scripture of Twilight, and that of the Sword, and even that of the Wind.  
  
The Sheikah themselves are a far cry from the legendary defenders they had been once upon a time. Some of them remain close to the Queen’s side, but they are few in number. Only the most skilled of the Sheikah are deemed worthy enough to protect her, the rest doomed to wander the lands of Hyrule as vagrants.  
  
Sheik’s tribe is among those vagrants. His is a more fortuitous tribe, for they do not merely wander the lands hiding their eyes and sacrilegiously unveiling their face. His is a proud tribe, holding their heads high and masking their faces, upholding traditions that have been passed down through the centuries.  They are traveling minstrels, obtaining their fortune through a life of show. All that talent that for generations has gone into protecting Hyrule’s Queen is wasted with fancy acrobatics and music.  
  
He grows up knowing how to weave just the right amount of magic through his melodies, how to make his lyre sound like a gift from the Goddesses. Sheik hopes, and prays, and dreams of some kind of change, though. He wishes to be remembered, not as a traveling minstrel, but for doing something important. He wishes for his name to go down in the Scriptures the way the Hero’s had. He wants his legend to be told in the green of the trees, in the very dirt he walks upon.  
  
However, with age, comes understanding. He is sixteen when he lets go of his childhood dreams of glory and fame. The circus thrives, and his childhood acts of lulling lions to sleep with his lyre become more important than the foolish dreams of a child. He becomes the caravans lead acrobat when the previous man falls prey to the creatures prowling just beyond their campfires.  
  
With his new responsibility, he lets his dreams go. All those naïve childish hopes of remembrance and legends are a mere flutter in the wind. He lets go, and thinks of nothing but the caress of the wind and the roar of the crowd.  
  
The last Hero died thousands of years ago, his name lost to the winds of time. Though Hyrule waits expectantly for her Hero, he stubbornly refuses to show his face. After years of lying in wait for this Hero, Sheik gives up and thinks himself foolish for ever hoping to meet such a legend.  
  
When he finally meets the Hero, he will be nearing twenty, and the Hero of Time will be wearing rags. Nevertheless, Sheik will know him.

 


End file.
